


Used To Be - John Wick x Reader

by ficsnroses



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, John Wick (Comics), John Wick (Movies), John Wick (Movies) RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Consensual Sex, Crying, Emotional Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficsnroses/pseuds/ficsnroses
Summary: John and you were in love, and still are. Only difference is, you’re now married to other people. You meet secretly often, and on this particularly emotional night you spend together, John decides he can’t be without you any longer.
Relationships: John Wick & You, John Wick/You, Keanu Reeves/Original Female Character(s), Keanu Reeves/Reader, Keanu Reeves/You
Kudos: 25





	Used To Be - John Wick x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> prompt : “did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?” 
> 
> a/n: This was originally a drabble for my prompt fics, but it spiraled into a full length fic because I loved it quite a bit. love me a good angsty smut! feedback is so greatly appreciated.

The sun sinks down the New York horizon, traces of earthy light; vanishing. Tonight, no stars seem to peak the sky. Tonight, it seems the sky understands. Tonight, the sky holds deep ash clouds, blackened shadows drifting with the wind.

The heavens cease to exist, for tonight- the sky mimics a ceiling of gray black rocks, trapping, confining her to the depths of her soul.

Tonight, she feels suffocated, in more ways than just one.

In the dull passenger seat of his car, John holds one sturdy hand firm on the steering wheel, gaze intent on the ash clouds that drift by out the crystal windshield. She sits adjacent, hands folded delicately in her lap, images, reminders of what _they_ used to be channeling each crevice of her mind.

What her and John used to be.

How had they ever let it get to this? It was never supposed to come to this. It was always supposed to be her and John, and perhaps if she’d realized that earlier, she would have saved herself the guilt. The shame, _the pain_ , the energy drained in weary half attempts to carry on their lives as they were; make do with what they’d done.

But she couldn’t, and neither could John. For her and John, it seemed that time had only made things worse, hung their hearts on a frayed loose thread that never seemed to break, despite how hard, how _long_ they’d fought to forget each other.

By now, the rain had been long pattering on the car windows, John’s features softening when he notes the drown of ache on her lips, the glint once coated on her eyes long forgotten. It scrapes him each time to see her this way; hurts him deeper, _burns him harder_. A never ending burn, each time they’d end up back here, back together within the regret ridden walls of his Mustang. Back within the graveyard walls of a dream. Back within the death, the slaughter of the dreams they’d once dreamed together.

Coursing the tense air, John begins, a callous hand moving into his lap.

“ _How’s Ben?_ ” John asks, awkwardly, tone thick with unease. With his hand firm on the wheel, he squeezes. Clenching, grasping, anything to ease the aching burn in his chest, with the words flying off his tongue as if normal.

-as if they didn’t break a piece of him each time they soared into the air; as if each time they fled, they weren’t building a burial ground of debris. Weren’t killing him inch by inch.

As if the words didn’t rationalize. Didn’t prove that _his Y/N_ , had gone to another man. Had ended up in someone else’s arms when perhaps, it was all

his

fault.

“ _ **John, please come back. Please come home.”**_

 _“ **John, I’m falling weak here without you. Please come back**_ **.** ”

She’d begged him time after time, again, and again, and _again_.

But he hadn’t come. He didn’t come for her when she needed him the most. He wanted to be more; wanted to leave the life of sin behind him for good before he returned. Wanted to be good enough for her to ask for her hand in marriage;

Yet, when his dreary bones returned that somber evening to the town he called home, she was gone. She’d been married off, and there was _nothing_ he could do to get her back.

Features stoic, yet her insides burn. A never ending burn, that only seemed to intensify with John around. The memories. The burning, sweltering, heart wrenching memories as they sat together now, a shell of what they used to be.

An empty, broken, hallow shell.

Lips taut in a straight line, she looks out the window, all efforts to keep her tears at bay failing nonetheless. With a burning globe seared out her soft orbs, she swallows thickly, the mere mention of _her_ name bringing never ending hallow to her chest. “ _How’s Helena?_ ”

John’s head turns out the window, unable to meet her eyes. Gaze softened, he barely turns and catches her from the peripherals of his eyes; her lips a gentle quiver, how her knuckles strain under the fragile skin.

His heart hurts for her, but he manages.

He manages, for her. “She’s alright.”

The air in the car space stills, and for a moment, just for a moment, John swore he’d heard the thud of his heart in his chest. Beating, thumping, waiting for her to say something.

But she doesn’t. She only stares out the window,

And stares,

And stares, and _stares_.

“Y/N,” John whispers, the scald on his heart intensifying by the second. His hand reaches for hers, palm resting over her hand that rests to her thigh, and when he squeezes ever so gently, gaze locked intently to her face, he sees the teardrops that singe her cheeks.

He sees in her, the same burn. The same _never ending_ , _agonising_ burn. “Sweetheart, I,” John starts before she cuts him off, a single finger to his lip.

“No, John.” She argues, moving from her seat, rising slightly out to lean over to his side. John watches her, as she moves over to the driver’s seat, positioning herself to straddle his lap. He pushes the lever of the seat back to generate more space, steering wheel poking at her back as she sits, so close to the man who held her heart.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She quietly speaks, gaze disheartened to their laps. Her eyes drag dreary, John’s arms curling around her to haul her body in closer. He studies each inch of her face, drinking her in. Something he wished he could do every morning as he woke, every night before he slept.

A life together was all they’d ever wanted. Yet here they were, locked away, confined and restricted,

in more ways than just one.

So close, their noses almost touch. John feels that flutter in his chest, the same flutter he feels each time he sees her. She always does this to him. Makes him feel this vulnerable, this fragile, this full of warmth that it practically scorches him to the bone. With his thumb soft and gentle, he cups her cheek, soothing softly under her eye. “I adore you, you know that right?”

She nods, feeble and fragile, more warm tears gliding her skin. Shaking her head, she places her hand to his chest, trying her best to keep at bay choked sobs and broken cries. Her time with John was special, limited, and she didn’t want it wasting away within her lifeless dirge of their remembrance of past. She watches John’s sad eyes gloss over her features, lips moving in to kiss away her tears.

Kiss away all the hurt he could. Because John knows, and John knows well.

John knows exactly how it feels to have everything in front of you, yet being utterly powerless to take it.

“ _Hey, no tears when we’re together_.” John hushes, kissing her forehead as his hand takes hold of hers. “This is our time, right?”

And with a passionate kiss to his lips, Y/N cups his face in both her hands, whispering against his tender mouth. “I just need to feel you right now, John.” She manages, swallowing thick tears and throaty sorrow; her hands unzipping the buckle of his jeans underneath her. Hastily, she reaches into his boxers, pulling out his cock just enough to free into the air, enough for him to take her. Within a swift motion, she lifts herself gently, drape of her skirt pushed mindlessly away as she slides her underwear to the side, eyes never leaving John’s.

A feel of complete, full, uncompromised love. A feeling physical, to match. John found himself falling for her further, a little more each time they felt each other _this_ way. A surrender of long overdue emotions.

Long built up fire that needed to be extinguished.

With John’s hands firm to her hips, he watches her take hold of his girthy cock, rubbing his swollen, rosy tip to her clit. Lining his member up with her entrance, she sinks down slowly, sat in his lap and they both sigh in unison. They sigh full of relief, full of each other, full of everything they’d ever wanted. With her arms looming around John’s neck, she feels him pull her body flush against his chest as she bounces, slowly, sensual up and down on him, soft moans and whimpers leaving both their lips.

This burn, is the only burn John ever wanted her to feel. A burn of pure, and utter, _bliss_.

Fragile body held close, John peppers kisses all over her skin, wherever his lips may reach. _Her hair, her temples, her forehead_ , grasping so desperately, so wholly, in fear that she may just disappear. Disappear away from him again like she had before,

Disappear, to some place he may never be able to find her.

She feels divine around his member, warm, wet, perfectly fit as if a glove moulded just for him. Using both his hands to keep her hair out of her face, John admires her, cupping, grazing, touching her cheeks tenderly. She remembers how he likes it; slow, sloppy and wet. The way he bites his quivering lip when she clenches, the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his hands feel each inch of her skin as they mould together. She remembers every bit of him, every piece.

Every part of her John.

With each bounce, she holds him tighter, his toned arms and shoulders, the broad of his chest that heaves against her. The anticipation is building; it had been a while since either of them had been with someone.

Being with anyone other than each other, wasn’t right. It was never right.

Sex, without the one you love had never felt right.

“ _Please don’t stop, baby,_ ” John moans quietly, pads of his fingertips bedding into her firmly held hips. “ _Please don’t stop_.” Burying his face in the valley of her clothed breasts, John savours her, indulging in the feel of her so close. She’s here, she’s really here, and right now, in this moment, she’s _his_.

No one else’s.

Stifled praises for her leave his mouth as he watches, a muffle of messy moans under her touch. Picking up pace, she hears his groans get louder and louder, the sounds of her wetness bobbing his cock flood the car walls, swollen cock shining with her slickness each time she rises up, only to sink down again. Clenching tighter, she wills all efforts to feel him deep inside her, feel him pleasing her. It’s becoming too much; the memories, the past, _the present_.

She remembers of their lives now.

This love was only temporary, and soon, when the wash of relief would cast over them, and the few moments they could steal together would eventually fade into the light;

So would they. Back to reality. Back to the wretched, cruel reality. The one where they couldn’t be together. Slowly, yet so suddenly, she feels the tears brim her dreary eyes. Glossing her gaze, they glide her cheeks in steady, river streams. A tear drop falls to John’s skin, and he watches her in complete, and utter, sorrow.

“Baby…” John starts, cupping her cheek before he’s cut off cold, her voice raspy and broken to the tone. Movements halting, his cock stays buried deep, deep inside her to her end, her eyes fall downcast, quiet, barely above a whisper.

“ _Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?_ ”

And to the sound of her words, barely strung together through a quivering croak, John’s eyes sting. His heart breaks, yet again; shatters, yet again. His lips part to speak, yet the words choke in his throat. Choke as he watches the woman he truly loves break in front of him.

Gaze flickering, vulnerability shines in her weary eyes. His closeness, his familiarly, _his warmth_ , all of him that came within his body holding hers, being this intimate with him again after so long,

it’s proving far too much.

“ _Why did you have sex with her, John?_ ” She cries quietly, head shaking to the thought of her love with someone else. “ _Why?_ ” Eyes clasping shut, she feels John’s arms hold her tighter now, a few tears brimming his own earthy orbs.

Thumb calloused, yet brimmed with the softest, most tender gentleness when he touches her, he wipes her tears away, holding her hand firm, tight, assuring her that he’s here. Slowly, his hands engulf in her own, soft and careful, staring as he rubs his thumb over the dips and bumps of her knuckles. “I love you, so much. He whispers. “You have no idea.” Her hands shake as her tears still fall, the built up dread bubbling inside, and she realizes that it was bound to come out.

Those words, those horrible thoughts, were bound to come out. She could only shelter them so long. With a deep and shaky sigh, her lips move to illuminate. “Every time I think of you, with _her_ -” John’s words cut through hers, holding her so desperately in his arms.

“Y/N,” He saddens. “I only think of you, always, every minute of every day.” Jaw clenching to the thought, his gaze is intense, yet holds a softness. A softness reserved solely for her. “When I see this on you…” Eyes flickering to the engagement ring that gleams on her finger, John breathily exhales, collecting his words; vision growing blurry again with his fingers soothing over it. “It kills to think of this…that I didn’t give you this.” Voice breaking, her hands cup his face, locking eyes. “I miss you so much, Y/N.” John confesses unsteadily. “You have no idea how easy it was to fall in love with you. And for me to have to love you in secret now, I-” His words halt in his throaty croak, breaking.

She weeps quietly, holding him close. “I’m so sorry I let it get this way.” John apologizes, pulling her close with his face nuzzled in the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry I let us…I let you…” And before he can finish the aching words that threaten to fall, she stops him, a tender kiss pressed to his head.

“No.” She kisses his lips again, fingers tangling his shadowy mane. “I don’t want to think about any of that right now.” Another kiss to the soft skin under his eye. “Right now is just for us, right?” She whispers, hips moving once again to slowly makes love to him, feel him slipping in and out of her as they relish. John nods, collecting his thoughts, eyes closing shut when he feels her bounce on him.

Their bodies together, so in sync, her heat throbs around him and she whimpers when his tip grinds her g spot. Bringing her hand over her lips, the cages in a particularly loud moan threatening to surface, the feel of John inside her, so heavy, so thick, the stretch of him filling her the best feeling to have ever felt. John’s hips buck up into her barely, sighing in sweet, _sweet_ relief.

“ _Do you even take care of yourself?_ ” She quietly asks, momentarily caught off guard by a rebellious strand of hair on his mane that never stills. Her finger lightly soothes over a mauve bruise just to the side of his temple, eyes falling sad thinking of John forgetting to give himself the care he needs. The care he deserves.

“Please, John, I need you to take care of yourself.” She pains, their hips still rolling into one another. “Do you…do you get enough sleep? Do the nightmares still come?” She inquires, gently soothing his nape.

With his lips planting a small kiss to her wrist, John lies through his teeth; he’d lie just for her. “No, sweetheart. They don’t. I’m fine, baby.” He assures, each vein, each curve and bump of his heavy cock pumping; twitching inside her. Breath hot on her lips, their foreheads connect, Y/N’s body trembling and whimpering from how good John is fucking into her now, how close to the brink of release they’re approaching. John’s member pumps, pounding spots inside her that nearly make her lose her breath, _deeper, harder_ , pressure bubbling inside her core.

“I only think about you, sweetheart.” John whispers into her neck, lips leaving delicate, tender, soothing love bites into her skin. Nipping and sucking gently on her satin skin, John sighs at ease for the first time, in a long time. Pouring all his love into her, his lips move adoringly along her skin, spilling oblivion into her as his cock glides in and out of her pussy, her soft moans sending shivers down his spine as she strokes his hair, panting.

“John, please don’t leave marks,” She wearily asks. “I have to go home.”

_She has to go home. She has to leave, eventually._

_They’ll have to part, eventually._

“But you’re mine,” John quietly courses, voice gravelly, thick with ache. She’s his, _but not_. She’s his, but _cannot be_. “Please come home with me tonight?” John asks, taking hold of her hand again. “I need to be with you, Y/N.” Desperate, John laces their fingers, intent on her answer, although his wavering mind had already known well the response.

Eyes locking his, she kisses his lips softly, before replying. “You know I can’t, baby.” She hesitates. “I just can’t.”

The harsh reality. _They can’t_.

Their skin is flushed, clung to each other with piercing shocks snapping their nerves, John’s member hastily slapping against her bare core with each thrust in. She aids, tenderly moving on him, her own lips peppering kisses over his face, paying special attention to the violet bruises on his temples. The insides of her thighs coat with their mixed releases, staining the fabric of her clothes yet she doesn’t care. John pushes as much of himself into her as possible and she cries, yelps of bliss into his chest as she shudders for him, the burn building by the second.

John’s hands slip into her shirt, cupping her breasts as he kneads tender soothes to the swell of her chest, nipples hardening under his touch. He tries, yet his mind cannot seem to drift. The thoughts can’t seem to subside, the hurt piercing through each crevice of his mind.

“ _Do you sleep with him?_ ” John blurts, unsure how the words had even slipped out. She feels far too good, far too divine, and he’s _far too_ madly in love to bear the thought of her with another man. “ _Do you show him your body like you show me?_ ”

With a whimper, she sobs from the pure ecstasy John feels like inside. Through barely attempts, she tries desperately to keep her eyes open, an assuring hand placed to John’s cheek. “Only you.”

Connecting their foreheads, she cups both his cheeks, jaw tightening with hard bites to her lip yielding minimal aid in encasing her cries of pleasure. She tightens around him harder, sizable cock making sinful noises as he slips in and out hastily, and she presses soft kisses to his lips through hot, trustful exhales. “I am _only_ for you.”

Gaspy moans trudge both their lips as the end nears, John’s dick sloppily throbbing in and out her moist folds. She hasn’t felt this full in long, and he hasn’t felt this loved, this cared for in a while. With a few more particularly deep thrusts, the sting of each other’s bodies entwined together sending jolts of heat spiraling inside as they cum together, crying, sobbing, reciting each other’s names against the other’s lips through soft kisses.

She feels John’s cum spill inside her, buried deep, slick and heavy, warm to the feel inside. Proximate and close, John pulls her nearer in a bear hug as they collapse against each other, holding tenderly, arms circled around in the warmest, firmest embrace. His palms sooth up and down her back, lips pressing kisses to her luscious, tousled hair through highs ridden out. Chest heaving, their sweaty bodies cling together, entrapped within steamy glass windows and humid post sex air. He stops along with her hips, buried profound inside, still throbbing as her pussy pulses around him, tender, sore, _delicate_ from the action.

With his voice deep and velvety, John tucks her head further into his neck, holding dearly, just as desperately as the entire session. Through warm succulence, he feels damp through the shirt on his shoulder again, knowing far too well that she must have allowed a couple more measly tears to slip her tired eyes, yet again.

Because _even after_ release, even after desperate words of assurance, declared love for one another, their reality wouldn’t change. She would still go home, and so would he. They would still sleep in long empty, distant beds with the cold feel of another’s body beside them at night. They would still wake up alone, without the other’s warmth to subside any worries away.

Burn would return; the cold, foreign, unending burn that sears through out.

Blazes when without one another.

Staring out the window to the fallen rain, John realizes, that happiness won’t be, if they stay way.

“I don’t want to be without you anymore.” John expresses, more of a statement to himself in the dire nightfall that shadows outside. “No more.” She moves slowly, untangling from him just enough to meet his espresso gaze. Fingers soft, she soothes his cheek, empathizing, eyes shutting to the sound of his breathing. The assurance of knowing he’s real, he’s alive, he’s healthy, and he’s _here_.

And with his palms taking her hands into his, John whispers, confident, assured, threaded fingers fitting perfectly together, in the embrace of whom they were always meant to be within. “I’m done remembering what _we used to be_.”

She cups his cheek, and to the sound of the pelting rain dribbling the car windows now, the patter peppers down, gently, soothingly, a symphony of its own,

 _ **Pitter**_ ,

“What we are now, is what I want.”

_**Patter** ,_

“What I need.”

 _ **Pitter**_ ,

“I lost you before, but I won’t lose you again.”

_**Patter** ,_

And with a kiss to her palm, he locks their eyes, sincerely, genuinely, for her. 

“ _I’ll make this right. I’ll make us right_.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

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